Hide and Seek
by DDG
Summary: *TBagxAbruzzi family* Bored, TBag pays the Abruzzi's a visit.


**Title:** Hide and Seek  
**Characters:** T-Bag, John Abruzzi, Sylvia Abruzzi, Nicole Abruzzi, John Abruzzi, Jr.  
**Word Count:** 1,983  
**Prompt:** #031. Death  
**Rating:** R  
**Summary:** Bored, T-Bag pays the Abruzzi's a visit.  
**Author's Notes:** Written for zsuness.  
**Beta:** clexmonkie89

**Warnings:** Death, rape, murder, necrophilia.

* * *

"Well, hey there, little boy. Your daddy home?" 

"No! He's in prison!"

The boy—five, maybe six—stood in the doorway, staring up at the smiling T-Bag, a slightly bemused look on his face.

"Oh, is he now?" Mother must not have had the heart to tell the children Daddy was in the hospital, T-Bag assumed, grinning to himself. "What about your mama?"

The boy nodded. "She's here!"

"You wouldn't mind gettin' her for me, would ya?"

Nodding again, the boy ran off down the hallway, shouting for his mother. T-Bag stepped into the house and the smell of chicken reached his nostrils. The family was about to sit down for dinner.

T-Bag turned to the door, closed and locked it. Well, he was going to sit down for dinner anyway.

"Hello?"

Turning, T-Bag smiled charmingly. "Sylvia Abruzzi?"

"That's me. And you are . . . ?"

"Theodore Bagwell, ma'am," Teddy licked his lips, "the last man you'll ever see."

"Wha—"

T-Bag pounced, throwing himself forward and catching Sylvia around the waist. They fell to the floor and T-Bag clamped his hand over Sylvia's mouth as she began screaming. Using his knee to hold her down and ignoring her as she pulled at his arms, he reached into his jacket with his free hand and pulled out a roll of duct tape.

He ripped a piece free with his teeth and made a quick transfer, lifting his hand for just long enough to slap the duct tape on. Both his hands now grasping her arms roughly, he pulled her up as he stood and slammed her against the wall.

"Boy oh boy," T-Bag licked his lips, "John sure does have good taste in women, don't he?"

Sylvia gave a muffled whimper from beneath the duct tape while T-Bag leaned into her arms, holding them in place. He tore off another piece of tape and pulled it around her wrists.

"Mommy?"

T-Bag turned his head to see John's little girl staring up at him with wide eyes. He sucked in his lips, and then smiled.

"Hey there, girly, what's your name?"

Sylvia began thrashing beneath T-Bag's grasp. He pushed her harder against the wall until he was sure he heard something _crack_ and she stopped struggling.

"Nicole. What're you doing to Mommy?"

"Me and your mommy are playin' a game."

Nicole's face brightened. "What kind of game?"

"Oh, a very fun game, girly. You wanna play?"

Nodding happily, Nicole waited eagerly for T-Bag to tell her what she had to do.

"It's just like hide-and-seek, Nicole." T-Bag turned his attention back to Sylvia, his mouth coming down to suck on the back of her neck before he continued. "All you've gotta do is hide somewhere in the house and in a little while I'll come and find you."

"What about Johnny? Can Johnny play?"

"Course he can," T-Bag's hands slipped beneath Sylvia's shirt and a shudder ran through her. "You better run along now and tell 'im. I'm gonna start countin' . . ."

Nicole let out an excited giggle and ran off, shouting for Johnny.

T-Bag twisted Sylvia around to face him. Her nose was broken and a mixture of blood and tears were slowly streaming down her face. "As for you," he leaned in close, pushing his forehead against hers, "we're going to play a very special game."

He shoved Sylvia down the hall. She stumbled, then caught herself and gave a quick glance back at him standing in the middle of the hallway, a salacious smile plastered on his face.

"You best hide, now, Sylvia." He took a threatening step forward. "I'm only givin' ya 'til fifty."

The woman quickly ran down the hallway and around a corner. T-Bag heard her stomps as she dashed up a flight of stairs. He began a slow walk to the end of the hallway, counting as he went. "One, two, three, four . . ."

He stopped to stare at a picture of the family. "Five, six, eight, eleven. . . ." His counting became louder and he headed for the staircase Sylvia had ran up.

"Fifteen, nineteen, twenty, twenty-two." More pictures of the family lined the staircase walls. T-Bag ran his fingers along the glass pane of one, as if what he was feeling was really the soft skin of the children.

He reached the landing and peered down the hallway. "Thirty, thirty-one, thirty-five, forty . . ."

There was giggling to his left as he walked along. He stared at the door, smiling, nearly reached out to grasp the knob and turn it, but reconsidered, wanting to find Sylvia before he came after the children.

"Forty-six, forty-seven, fifty." He heard something that vaguely sounded like, "cheater!" from behind a door to his right.

"Ready or not," T-Bag called, grinning, "here I come."

A predator, now stalking his prey, T-Bag lightly crept along the hallway, listening for sounds of Sylvia. He neared the end and began treading even lighter, quieter than he'd ever been before.

He pressed against the wall to the left of the closed master bedroom door. Cautiously, he turned the knob and, surprised to find it wasn't locked, pushed it inward.

"Oh, Sylvia! Sylvia! You in there, Sylvia?"

A muffled cry and frantic ripping caught his attention.

"I was thinking about what I was gonna do to you, Sylvia, thinking about how I was gonna retell it all to John. 'Bout how I raped 'n murdered his wife and his kids."

Swiveling on his foot and stepping into the bedroom, T-Bag heard Sylvia whimper. He eyed the slightly ajar closet door suspiciously before pacing toward it.

"Don't be afraid," he rested his hand on the knob, tapping his fingers against the metal. "It won't hurt . . ."

Sylvia sobbed behind the door and T-Bag heard her thrashing about, trying to free herself from her bindings.

" . . . much, anyway."

The door, opening ever so slowly, came back to reveal Sylvia, huddled in the corner, her eyes puffy and red from crying, nose running with snot and blood and tear stains trailing down her cheeks. Her hands were in front of her now and T-Bag could see where she'd unsuccessfully tried to rip the duct tape

"C'mere now, Sylvia," he grasped her shoulder roughly and yanked her from the closet. "And let Uncle Teddy take care of ya, hm?"

Reaching inside his coat, T-Bag pulled out a switchblade and flipped it open. Sylvia, on her back and struggling to crawl away, stared at the blade with tear-filled eyes and sobbed.

Descending, T-Bag grabbed Sylvia's pants and made quick slashes until he could easily pull the shredded material away. He made one cut down each side of her panties, the tip of the blade brushing against her skin.

"Ain't been with a woman in awhile," T-Bag lopsidedly grinned. "So you oughta be honored I chose you as my first, over your pretty little daughter out there, hidin' in the closet."

Sylvia's eyes were wide and glistening with tears on the brink of sliding down her flushed cheeks.

T-Bag unzipped his pants and pulled them down, boxers following shortly after, while his smile grew at Sylvia's constant whimpers and fearful visage.

He nodded and ripped the duct tape away from Sylvia's mouth. "We're gonna have fun, ain't we, dear?"

She shook her head wildly and T-Bag smacked her.

"I said, _we're gonna have fun, ain't we, dear?_"

Switchblade at her throat, Sylvia forced herself to nod.

* * *

Being inside a real hospital brought about a cheery smile to T-Bag's face. He whistled as he walked along, the ends of the white lab coat he'd stolen blowing along behind him. 

"Good evening doctor." The nurse smiled at him and he smiled back, a "Good evening," of his own rolling easily off his tongue.

There, room 311. T-Bag quietly opened the door and stepped inside before closing and locking it behind him.

He turned, grinning at the lone patient.

"Evenin' John."

Eyes slowly opening, John Abruzzi's gaze traveled over the room before falling upon T-Bag at the door. He blinked, confused.

T-Bag made his way to John's bedside and pulled up a chair. Sitting, he grabbed John's hand and held it as a loved one might do—left hand over top, right hand cupping the palm.

"Just thought I'd pay you a visit." He leaned forward as John frowned at him, wanting to growl but lacking the ability.

"Tell you about the . . . unfortunate accident with your," T-Bag sucked in his lips anticlimactically, "wife and kids."

John's face contorted and he opened his mouth, trying to speak.

"Now, now," T-Bag patted John's hand, "don't worry. I'll tell you _all_ about it.

"Who should I start with, hm? Your pretty little daughter, or maybe your son?" He waited for a response from John, and when all he got was a murderous glower, he went on. "Guess I should start with your wife, shouldn't I?"

John weakly lifted his hand, but T-Bag held on.

"You sure do have good taste in woman, John. Did you know that? Guess you do now, don't ya? Sure was feisty though.

"She wanted to run—know she did—but she was afraid to leave the kids. Ain't that sweet? I thought so. Anyway, after I'd fucked her I played with her a bit. You know, told her 'bout what I was gonna do to the kids—kind of like what I'm doin' right now with you, John—what I was gonna do to her body after I killed her.

"Slashed her throat real good when she started screamin' again. Watched her bleed out. Sorry 'bout the rug, by the way. Looked expensive—hope you didn't pay too much for it.

"Fucked her again once she was dead." T-Bag paused before adding, "You look surprised, John. You really think I wouldn't do it? Those weren't jus' rumors."

He leaned in closer and began talking a little quieter. "We was playin' hide an' seek, me and your kids. Nicole was hidin' in the linen closet under some towels. Don't think she realized what was really goin' on 'till she saw the blood. Then she screamed bloody murder and tried to get away.

"Didn't get far, either. Caught her halfway down the hall and dragged her into the master bedroom so she could see her dead momma.

"She cried. Wouldn't believe how loud she cried. Cried even louder when little Johnny came runnin' in, shoutin' an' wantin' to know what was goin' on. Had to put my switchblade to Nicole's throat so he'd stay back against the wall.

"Don't think he realized I was gonna actually kill her. Didn't slash her throat quite as deep as I did her momma's. Took awhile to bleed out and it looked like it hurt too, but by then I was preoccupied, havin' my way with Johnny an' all.

"He didn' like bein' so close to Momma's corpse so I fucked him next to Sissy—but he didn't like that too much either. Started screamin' all kinds of things. Where'd your boy learn all those nasty words anyway?"

John was crying silently as his mind slowly processed T-Bag's words, showing him images he thought he'd never be forced to see.

"Tied him up when I was finished. Fucked Sissy's corpse and had 'nother round with Sylvia.

"Then—and here's the kicker—I went downstairs and ate the delicious dinner Sylvia had cooked before I left." He released John's slightly sweaty hand and wiped the fluid on his pants. "Exhilarating, wouldn't you say?"

John's heart rate was accelerating, the monitor's incessant beeping apparent.

"Guess I should finish what I started, shouldn't I?" T-Bag leaned over, reaching for the respirator's power plug. He pulled it and stood back, watching as John struggled to breathe.

Three minutes later, T-Bag was walking toward the nearest exit, whistling.


End file.
